As for jewelry, most women are highly particular about what they like and don’t like. And the problem with the merchandise at the big-box store is that, being cheap, it may fall apart before sundown.

So, as a middle-aged woman whose mother is dead and whose children are now young adults, I’ll let you in on the Mother’s Day secret that Madison Avenue had hoped you’d never learn: Your mother doesn’t want all that stuff.

She wants you.

She wants your time, your attention, your respect, your affection, your appreciation — none of which costs you any money but all of which, to her, is priceless.

If you and your mother are separated geographically, as my mother and I were for a decade, or if she’s dead, as mine has been for eight years, I’m sorry.

I’m doubly sorry if the two of you are estranged. In some ways, that’s the worst kind of separation.

Otherwise, you’ve got no excuse for not spending the better part of today hanging out with the woman who gave birth to you.

Some moms may want to go shopping or see a movie. My mother liked being invited to our house for a special meal prepared by her favorite (and only) son-in-law.

Can’t cook? You could surprise your mom by doing some of the chores she couldn’t browbeat or bribe you into doing when you were a shiftless teenager.

I guarantee that most mothers, especially those of us with full-time jobs, would take a cleaned-up house or a freshly washed car over a dozen roses any day.

Throw in some minor repairs — change a couple of light bulbs, fix a leaking faucet or toilet, re-screen the back door — and she’ll brag about you to your siblings for months to come.

Not that Mother’s Day is about outshining your brothers and sisters (although as one of five siblings, I say do it if you can). Nor is it about material things (although I won’t turn down any gifts that might come my way today).

It’s about relationships. It’s about family. It’s about love.

And it’s about understanding that there will come a time when you won’t have your mother around, and a time later when you won’t be around for your children. (Don’t make me use the d-word; you know what I’m talking about.)